


Blind Bats.

by Little_sparrow



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4065478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_sparrow/pseuds/Little_sparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Blake (aka, Robin) and Batman run into trouble, and John turns to an old friend for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unexpected visit.

There was a sharp knock at the front door, and Lily, who had been lounging on the couch in her pajamas, couldn’t help but frown, it was late at night and she lived in a bad neighbourhood. Fear fueling her actions, she tossed off a pile of dense blankets that she’d been buried under, moving with a practiced ease and familiarity around her old beaten up couch. Roughly pulling on a turtle-neck sweater from where it had been neatly placed on a rickety kitchen chair, and moved towards the door. Pausing a moment to pick up a metal bat that stood in her umbrella holder. There was another impatient knock, this time accompanied by a strained, but recognisable voice, “Lily”! 

“I’m coming.” Lily called back dropping the bat with relief, hastily running her fingers down the scratched and peeling chipboard, unfastening the numerous locks, which almost seemed to be holding the weathered door from falling off its hinges. A smile spread so wide across Lily’s face, that her already split lip reopened, she winced and turned the door handle, practically throwing herself at her oldest and dearest friend, John Blake. 

There was a moment of confusion, as Lily realised that John was not alone, one of his arms extended out to hold up the figure of a heavily slumping man. All the same, his free limb pulled her into a brief but tight embrace, for a moment, his forehead coming down to rest on her shoulders, as if he barely had the energy to keep his head up. Lily’s eyes widened, as taking a deep breath in, her sharp senses were filled with a tangy iron smell, and pulling her cheek away from John, she realised it came away moist with his blood. 

“John?”, Lily gasped in question. Grunting from the effort of supporting the weight of the other man, John asked “Lily, I need your help. We need your help.” Without hesitating, Lily whispered “Of course”, her eyes widening in stunned surprise. 

“Can you?” He asked without needing to clarify, readjusted his hold on the tall man, his free hand reaching out to squeeze lightly on Lily’s upper arm. She nodded, as if being shaken out of her daze, and moved around to the other side of the man, picking up his slack, thickly muscled arm, and draped it across her shoulders. 

“Is he…” Lily began to ask if the man was unconscious, but a deep groan interrupted and answered her question. Whoever he was, he was still conscious, but it was obvious from the way his legs attempted and failed to keep him standing upright, and the strong odour of blood coming from the man, that he was in a bad way. 

John and Lily worked together to pull the man over the threshold, and over to her couch, Lily immediately going over to a draw in her kitchen to pull out her extensive first-aid kit, and brought it back around to John, who knelt exhausted next to the stranger. Her mind racing ahead of her, she went back into the kitchen, picking up her land line, dialling in 911, but paused before pressing call, as a deep, gravely voice, every word sounding painful, said “Don’t. Don’t call anyone.” The voice was unfamiliar and ruff, and so low that it sounded almost garbled. 

Frowning in confusion and dismissal, Lily stated the obvious, “You need help, I’m calling an ambulance” and hit the call button. 

This time it was John who spoke, his voice sharp with urgency, “No you can’t. You can’t call anyone.” There was a tense pause, Lily uncertain what to do, but repeated “He needs serious help.” John nodded, “I know, I’ve already called someone. They’re on their way here now.” 

The phone’s dial tone ended, and a recorded female voice answered “Hello this is Gotham’s emergency department, do you need Police, Fire or Ambulance.” Lily debated her options, sighed, and lowering the phone hung-up. “Now what?” She asked somewhat defensively, her disapproval clear in her voice. 

“Now you can tell me what to do, cause this kind thing is not really my area of expertise.” John answered, relief evident in his usually soothing voice. 

Lily gritted her teeth, but obligingly moved back over to the couch. Kneeling down next to John, she quibbed, "You know its not really my area of expertise now either", one of feeling the man's thready pulse, the other coming out to feel the man’s chest. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, as she felt the hard, sculpted armour covering the man from head to foot. John remained silent, gauging her reaction and clearly waiting for her directions. “Right, first things first, we need to get this armour, or whatever it is, off him so that we actually get to his wounds.” 

John nodded, muttering something in agreement under his breath. He moved to unfasten the buckles near the man’s upper chest, while Lily clumsily felt along the sides of the mystery man’s abdomen, pulling apart a buckle on either side. “Ok” John said, his voice returning to its usual tone, as he pulled off the large kevlin breast piece and then leaned across to pull off the abdomen piece as well. 

“Can you find me the hand sterilizer, it should be in the kit’s front pocket.” Lily expectantly asked John, her fingers impatiently tapping on her thighs, as she sat back on her legs, chewing her lip. She heard John unzip the bag, rummage around for a second, and pull out the container. Without waiting for his question, Lily firmly told him to lather his hands in the stuff, and after he was done, she did the same. Skimming over the man’s skin with the palm of her hand, she vaguely noted that the man, whoever he was, was well-built, very well built by the feel of his deltoids, and amended her thoughts, to picturing the man as all muscle and brawn. Her fingers nimbly identified that he had three abrasions, the longest being around the size of a pencil. 

“How deep are those cuts?” Lily asked, her voice all control and experience. John hesitated with his answer, and Lily clarified, “Can you see any bone, organs or cartilage?”  
John responding quickly with a “No”, adding that he thought that they weren’t deep so much as long. 

Lily nodded, relieved to hear his answer; shallow cuts she knew that she could deal with, it was a matter of stopping the bleeding, and bringing the edges of the cuts together, but if it had been deeper, he might have had damage to any number of organs, which she was no where near prepared for. Whatever that armour was made of, it had probably taken most of the weapon’s impact. 

“We need to stop the bleeding, we don’t want him going into hypovolemic shock.” She said, to herself or John she wasn’t sure. 

Picking up the antibacterial that John had earlier placed on the coffee table, her fingers so slick with blood she almost dropped the bottle, she spoke directly to the man collapsed on her couch, “This is gonna burn like hell.” Squirting a large portion onto the centre of his chest, she smeared the gel across his chest, not stopping even when he hissed through his teeth, and made a point to rub the liquid into the cut’s edges, to try to kill any bacteria left by whatever had stabbed him. 

Working quickly, she instructed John how to put pressure on the man’s injuries to slow the bleeding, as she began taping and stitching the man’s wounds together, her hands working back and forth with practiced ease. John watched her, his dark brown eyes steadily taking in the determined line of Lily’s angular jaw, and felt a small amount of pride well up as he noted her evident skill and calm demeanor. Lily finished placing the last bandage patch on his third cut, and let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in for the last half hour. 

Covering her hands once again with the antibacterial, she tiredly asked, “I didn’t think to ask before, does he have any other injuries.” 

“I think he might have” John paused in hesitance, then his face changed to a sad, almost rueful look, and then continued “Uhm, one on the back of his head. When he fell I think he might have hit it.” 

Lily sucked in a breath, knowing that at the very least he might have a concussion, and at the worst brain injuries. “We need to check that his pupils are responsive to light. There should be a torch, possibly in one of my kitchen drawers. I don’t know exactly, I don’t really use them anymore.” John stood up and began opening drawers and cupboards in Lily’s kitchen. 

 

Lily leant forwards, hands finding the man’s wide set shoulders, trailing them up his neck, and said “I’m just going to check your skull and face for any signs of bruising or cuts.” Her fingers reached his chin and then faltered, as along the bridge of his cheeks and nose, she felt a stiff material that followed the curve of his head and face. She suddenly understood. Surprised, shocked and confused. The strange armour, the stab wounds and the voice had somehow seemed familiar, a person or story niggling at the back of her mind, just out of reach of her conscious grasp. Then the mask, because that was surely what it was, like the last piece in a jigsaw puzzle, made realization hit like a stack of bricks. Her mouth fell open, and the knowledge of who this man was, what this man was, made her gasp. A cold shiver running up her back, she swallowed, and deciding that however he got there, and whoever he was, no matter how bizarre and incredulous it was, he still might have brain injuries; and no one would be very pleased if they found out that Gotham’s vigilante had been made a vegetable because she was in too much shock to prevent anything. 

Gingerly sliding her fingers under the graphite, she began to pull the mask off his face, when she yelped in surprise, her shock getting the better of her, as Batman’s hand, quick as a whip, had clamped on her hand and with an iron grip stopped her from moving. “I…” She stammered, not knowing the right thing to say, and still wondering at the amount of strength and speed he possessed in those lighting reflexes, amazed that was even possible after whatever beating he’d just taken. 

“Don’t.” He growled for the second time that evening, exhaustion creeping into his voice, even if his grip on her hand never faltered.

John had strode into the lounge a torch held in his hand, concerned when he had heard Lily’s shout of alarm. He swept his eyes over the situation, and kneeling down next to Lily, growled in a warning tone, “That’s not necessary.” Reaching up and breaking Batman’s now slack grip on Lily. 

Lily protectively cradled her arm in her lap, more out of unease than pain, swallowing again, her mouth suddenly dry. 

“She was about to take of …” Batman began, in a low, tense voice. John cut him off. “I know, and it doesn't matter.” 

By the hitch in his breath, Lily could tell Batman was about to say something else, but John interjected again. 

“Lily is blind. She has been for the last 7 years.” John’s voice was dry, without humour. 

There was a tense moment of silence, and Lily wished for a moment she could see their warring faces; an unspoken conversation clearly taking place between them. 

Batman was the first to speak. “Go ahead.” He said calmly. Lily noted that there was no hint of sympathy for her, or embarrassment in his voice, and she was fiercely glad. She hated it when people acted strangely around her; her life was already difficult enough without having to tip-toe around someone else’s feelings, about her own problems. 

Taking that as a sign of permission, she leant forward again, pulling the mask swiftly off Batman’s face, and mocked gasped, saying “So that’s who you are.” John’s head swiveled around in surprise, and batman inhaled sharply through his teeth. Lily smirked, and laughter in her voice said, “Relax, I kid. I really am blind.” John huffed out a small laugh, and she felt rather than heard Batman let out his breath, as it ruffled the loose strands of hair hanging around her face. 

Lily smiled to herself, still amused by her own joke, and John said, “I can’t see any bruising or cuts on his face. He must have hit it at the back.” Lily nodded in recognition, and said “Thanks”. Moving her hands around to the back of Batman’s head, her fingers skimmed over the tips of his ears, and she began moving her fingers through his thick locks, as she combed back and forth, feeling for any protrusions; with or without sight, it was the best way to find and judge the extent of his injury through his abundance of hair. 

Lily hummed, and humour returning to her voice again, said “So it’s not true then. You don’t just wear the mask and cowl to hide your balding head.” This time John did laugh aloud, as he flickered the torch over Batman’s eyes. 

John spoke abruptly, “I think you have a concussion.” He directed his comment to Batman. 

Lily was about to speak, but then was interrupted by a smart rap on the door, and she tilted her head to listen. John stood up and moved to open the door, an older sounding, english accented man said “Good-evening. I presume then that I have found the correct apartment this time.” 

“Sure have.” John answered, his distinctly American accent contrasting with the older man's, “He’s on the couch.” The two men walked over to the couch, and there must have been some acknowledgement or recognition pass between the three of them that Lily couldn’t see, because the older man pulled out something from a bag he had brought in, and said, “‘Ere take this. Its for the pain.” 

Batman began to talk, but the older man spoke over him in an admonishing tone, “If we’re going to move you so we can get you home and fix you up proper, we can’t have you making any noises cause you’re in pain. I don’t know how you managed to get him up two flights of stairs in the first place.” He said the last part to John. 

“It wasn’t easy, let me tell you.” John said, leaning heavily against one of the lounge walls. 

Lily licked her now dried lips, and tasted blood, her own she hoped, and said, “He’s got a concussion, and a nasty bruise on his head, he’ll need to be watched to make sure he doesn't go to sleep, so I hope that painkiller doesn't have any sedative effects.” 

The older man must have looked around in confusion, as if for the first time noticing Lily. John supplied, “This is my good friend Lily Thorn. Lily, this is…” he paused, and then said lamely, “My good friends.” Lily smiled anyway, and held out a hand in mid-air. 

When the older man took her blood sticky hand, it was with a firm warmth and kindness, even though that sounded like a strange things to summarise about a handshake. “It’s my pleasure to meet you.” He said. 

Lily, clearing her throat said, “You should get Batman back to his, well wherever you’re going to take him. His blood pressure has probably stabilised now, but his body won’t be able to keep that up for very long. He needs some kind of transfusion within the next hour, sooner if possible.” Even though Batman probably looked like he was fine, Lily could tell by the way he breathed, or tried not to breath, that he wasn’t all right, but was putting on a good show for the other two. 

Spurred on by Lily’s words, John and the older man carefully maneuvered Batman off the couch, and between the two of them, which must have been no easy feet, judging by their grunting and Batman’s impressive physique.

John cleared his throat, suddenly nervous “Thank you Lily. I’ll see you soon.” And he and the older man left, moving clumsily down the flight of stair outside Lily’s apartment, and into whatever vehicle the older man had arrived in. Lily waited until she heard them leave, before closing the door. She took a deep breath in, and sighed heavily, resting her head on the door frame. That, she thought, was unexpected.


	2. Special Powers.

The sound of drills, and shouts of construction workers dominated the crowded lunchtime streets, beeping horns, conversations, and the noise that hundreds of feet make moving over concrete added to the jarring cacophony that daily filled the city of Gotham. Noises that had once overwhelmed and terrified Lily, but now she found as comforting as the scent of her house, or the warmth of a hot drink, or the smell of John’s favourite cologne, the one she’d always bought him for Christmas. The scent filled her nostrils now, overpowering even the smell of the sweet donuts from the store that she’d made a point to visit the last three days, knowing that sooner or later he’d turn up. She waited calmly, leaning up against the nearest building wall, the cold of the stone seeping through her thin cardigan. 

John had been standing in front of her, apparently stunned silent for the last two minutes; she knew, because she’d been counting. Lily was the first to speak, “So Blake, you gonna say hello, or are you just going to keep standing there with your mouth hanging open?” she asked, dry humor sneaking into her voice. 

“How did you know, how do you always know?” John blurted out unable to figure out how she knew he'd been standing there, raising his hands in a disbelieving gesture, the sound of his donuts rustling in the paper bag as he moved. 

“Special powers.” Lily shot back sarcastically. 

Lily couldn’t suppress her smile any longer, and reaching for her walking cane, she pulled away from the wall, and swung out her arm, “So you gonna go for a walk with me or what? We should still have another 20 minutes before I’ve gotta head back for my work.” 

John sighed loudly out of his nose, either because of exasperation or mirth she couldn’t tell, although the truth was probably somewhere in between. “All right” he acquiesced, before adding, “But you’re not having the double glazed one, that’s mine” in reference to the donuts. They fell into companionable silence, as he steered them across the street, and into the nearby park. 

When they’d been walking for a little while, the mood began to change. Lily bit her lip, and then wished she hadn’t; it was still tender from when it had split. She breathed out slowly, sensing the tension building in John’s arm and shoulders, as his thoughts inevitably drifted to where hers already were. 

She felt John take in a breath, but before he could say anything, she snapped “It's been a month John. It's been a whole month.” 

“Well it’s…” John started, his voice cracking the way it always did when he felt guilty, but Lily cut him off again, the way that two people with the familiarity of a brother and sister do, “You said you’d ‘see me soon’’” she waved her fingers in the air making the gesture for quotation marks. “Soon,” she stressed the word, “Is like the next day, or the day after that, or even a week after that. At the very least it’s a phone call” she ranted, her voice rising so that the couple nearby spared a glance in their direction. 

“Well I’m sorry,” John said defensively, shrugging his shoulders. Lily’s eyebrows shot up, and she said sarcastically, “When people are sorry, they don’t ignore other people’s calls” she was yelling now, “for a whole month” she finished, probably making no sense to anyone else but John. 

“Lil’” John crooned, using his nickname for her, “I am sorry. I just didn’t know what to tell you. I mean, I show up on your door, with a,” he paused, looking for a description that wasn’t ‘Batman’, “a bleeding man, and ask you to stitch him up. I knew you’d have questions, I just didn’t know what to tell you.” 

Lily crossed her arms, “For starters you could tell me how you know…. the guy, and what on earth happened to you both.” She seethed and haltered unable to think of a description at all that wasn't 'Batman', and quickly added “and don’t try to deny that you do know him, because I know you do.” She shook her head, it had occurred to her over the last month, when her thoughts drifted to what had happened, which they often did, that the way that John interacted with Batman, how he knew who to call for help, the way he wasn’t surprised when she pulled off Batman’s mask, all spoke of a pre-existing relationship, or at the very least, a familiarity. 

“We ran into some trouble a couple of block away from your house, we needed help, and I knew that you’re place would at least be safe.” John said as explanation, and she felt the rise and fall of his shoulders as he shrugged. She did however note that at least he didn’t try to lie about his connection to Batman.

Lily nodded angrily, “So that’s it, that’s all I get?!” 

John shrugged again, a gesture he had the habit of doing, and one that had always irritated Lily. “It’s complicated” he said, his accent drawing out the vowels sounds. 

Lily changed and then changed again her grip on her cane, “And you couldn’t have said that over a phone call?” She asked sarcastically. “And what’s this ‘we’ business? Why do you have anything to do with a vigilante? You’re a detective for crying out loud.” She poked his shoulder. She didn’t really have a problem with John being some kind of informant for Batman, if she was being entirely honest, since she’d always thought that vigilante or not, he seemed like he was doing a world of good for Gotham. But she wasn’t being entirely honest, and she was angry, because she was hurt that John had been avoiding her calls. 

John sighed, wondering for a moment how upset Lily would be if she found out that he wasn’t just an informant for Batman. “I’m sorry.” He repeated, shrugging again, “that’s all I can say.”

Lily shook her head in frustration and they both fell silent. Suddenly she turned to him, aiming to poke him in his chest, but being blind, she missed and hit his armpit, as she ordered “Don’t do it again. I don’t care if it’s complicated, in fact I don’t even care if you’re dead. Next time, when I call you, pick up the phone.” She couldn’t help it, knowing how ridiculous that last bit was, a smile broke out on her face, as she poked his armpit deliberately this time, and asked “Got it?” 

“Okay, okay.” John laughed, fending away any further prods from Lily. “But picking up a phone when I’m dead might be a little hard to do.” He bantered. 

In spite of herself, Lily laughed, John always had a way of making her laugh, “Yeah well, you get my point.” She rolled her eyes for his benefit, and made a show of shaking her head in disbelief. 

After a moment, John asked, “So, are we good?” Lily grinned, “if you give me that double glazed donut I think we might just be able to call it even.” John, still laughing, shook his head “You drive a tough bargain my friend.” 

They ate the donuts between conversation, and walked back to the street curb, where John hailed a taxi. Pulling the door open, he asked, “You going back to work?” 

“Yeah” Lily answered. As she sat down she heard John give the street name to the driver, of the orphanage where she worked. She gave John’s hand a quick squeeze, appreciative of her friend’s thoughtfulness. The cab door closed shut with a quick goodbye, and the smell of cologne was replaced with the pungent smell of stale cigarette smoke. 

The drive was a short one for this hour in the afternoon, but Lily wasn’t complaining, happy to get out of the funky smelling taxi as soon as possible. As she exited the cab, pulling her cardigan closer to her body, she took in the delighted screams and yelps of one or more children outside playing on the old orphanage's playground. Trailing her fingers along the long, peeling metal fence of the institute, listening to the gentle twang of her fingers as they hit the bars and smiled. 

A lot had changed in her life over the last 7 years, and although she’d never thought she’d wind up working as an orphanage’s receptionist, assistant manager and fill-in school nurse, not counting all the other unofficial roles that she had, she was content. Her fingers landed on a small set of hands, still pudgy with baby fat, and she stopped, trying to hide a grin as the child giggled. 

She knelt down, her knees coming to touch the concrete, and voice laced with mirth whispered, “Oh, what’s this, someone’s hands. Whoever could they belong to.” The child giggled again, and Lily continued, “Hmm, but let me guess. They feel small, about the size of a 6 year old’s,” the child giggled again, letting her turn their hands over, Lily hummed in faux consideration “But they’re strong, and they feel cold.” She gasped, eyebrows rising, “I think I might know someone else who has small, strong hands, and they’re always cold.” Now the boy burst out laughing, and she exclaimed “Why, it’s Thomas isn’t it!” 

The boy, laughing uncontrollably, asked, “How did you know, how do you always know?” Lily smiled to herself, musing that it was the second time she’d been asked that question today. Reaching through to affectionately ruffle his coarse set of hair, she answered, “Special powers” and winked. She knew, even if she couldn’t see, that the boy smiled. 

The bell for the end of lunch break sounded, and both Thomas and Lily collectively groaned. “I think we both know what that means, back to work!” She said firmly, in a tone that meant there was no arguing about the matter. Thomas sighed, and muttering under his breath headed back towards his classroom. 

Standing up, she rested her head on her cane for a moment, thinking about Thomas. He’d been here only a year, and she remembered how his little body quivered with fear and sobs, barely able to uttering a word. It had taken Lily many lunch breaks sharing sandwiches in the park’s sandbox with the boy, for him to begin to trust her, and even more weeks for him to begin to talk to the other children. Thomas was finally beginning to improve on his grades, and Lily was relieved, not all the boys were able to recover from the trauma of their past lives, but Thomas was young, and his heart forgiving; he might not forget, but here at least he could grow. 

Someone cleared their throat from behind Lily, and startled, she jumped, fumbling her grip on the cane, until it hit the ground, rolling of the edge of her foot. “Here, let me.” A distinctly male voice said, as the owner bent down and retrieved her walking cane. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” the stranger drawled, although he didn’t sound exactly apologetic, and Lily wondered for a moment how long he’d been standing behind her. “I was just inside talking to the head of the orphanage, a Mr Rumswick I think, and he suggested I talk to you. I presume you are in fact, Miss Thorne?” He asked.

Lily curtly replied, "By that I presume you mean Mr Brunswick, and if that’s the case, then yes, I am Miss Thorne.” 

“Right, well Mr Rumswick or whatever, he said that I should talk to you about all this.” The man again repeated, as if she hadn’t heard him properly the first time. She tried not to let his lack of care or deliberate mispronunciation of her boss’s name irritate her.

“What can I help you with, Mr…?” She trailed off expectantly. 

“Wayne, Bruce Wayne.” He answered in the most arrogant voice Lily thought it was possible for someone to muster. “I’d like to talk to you about getting some assistance with organising a fundraiser for this orphanage. I’ve got some extra money that I may as well avoiding having to lose to tax, so I thought, why not throw a party and actually get my money’s worth, out of my money, if you know what I mean.” 

Yes, Lily thought, she knew exactly what Bruce Wayne meant. Annoyance flared up inside her, at his careless attitude, his thoughtless actions, his hedonistic values, and, being honest, simply because he was filthy rich, and there was more than a hundred children in the orphanage who could probably spend his money more wisely than he did made her want to tell him where he could shove his party idea. Instead, she said “Thank you Mr Wayne, the orphanage’s board, and the children will be very grateful for your charitable efforts. I’ll do whatever I can to help.” Even if this man was a an idiot, she wasn’t about to let an opportunity to do so much good slip by. 

“Well, er, that’d be great. I’ve got places to be and people to see and all that, and my limo’s waiting for me, so I’ll see you at my offices sometime.” He turned on his heels, his expensive suit making a soft ruffling noise as he swaggered away. 

“Mr Wayne!” Lily called out. 

He stopped, and Lily asked, “Before, when I dropped my cane, where did you put it?”

“Oh, against the tree there” He called back, already turning away dismissively. 

Impatiently Lily held out her hand, and cautiously made her way over to the tree, where after sometime searching around, she found that her cane had fallen from where it had been leaning against the tree, and rolled into the gutter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What?! Two chapters in one day? I never do that.... ;) But the writing bug has bitten me, and sometimes, even if I'm five days away from an exam, you gotta write what you gotta write.
> 
> So, what do you think?


	3. A City on the Mend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, I've changed the time line of batman a little, and pretty much the whole ending of The Dark Knight Rises.  
> To summaries, the first and second movie happened, almost unchanged, except that when Bruce first left Gotham, I've made it that he's only 21 (in the movie I think he's actually 23). I've also made it that Bruce was only away for five years (one whole year of that time still spent training under the league). I've made it that legally Bruce didn't have to be 30, to buy back so much of his company when he did. 
> 
> So when Bruce first become Batman, he is only 26, at the end of the first and second movies, this places him at age 28. There also wasn't such a large gap between the second movie and the third, I mean come on, Alfred waited 8 years, 8 WHOLE YEARS, to tell Bruce to get his butt into gear and do something good with his life?! I find that hard to believe. 
> 
> Instead, I've made it so that's there was only a 3 year gap between the second and third movie (Bruce had to grieve through out that time), which means that Bruce is about 31 during last film. 
> 
> The first chapter takes place one year after the events of the third move, which puts Bruce at about only 32 or 33, rather than about to turn 40. I feel that for what I'm thinking of doing in this fan-fiction, that's a more appropriate age. I don't feel that this age difference affects his maturity or anything, considering what happened in Bruce's life; witnessing his parents murder at 12, his time away from Gotham spent fighting in a prison and training with assassins, and then all that followed in the Batman Trilogy, including Rachelle's death.... yeah, I'd say he probably feels a lot like and old soul. 
> 
> You probably noticed that in the last chapter, I mentioned that John Blake did not give up his detective job at the end of the movie. Bruce clearly didn't pretend he was dead, and did not donate his house to the orphanage. Also, Alfred and Bruce are back to being buddies, cause it just broke my heart waaay too much to have them still arguing about Bruce actively being Batman.
> 
> I think that about covers most of the major changes, so I hope you're not too annoyed or anything.... 
> 
> Anyways, Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> ****

After the city’s lock down and reign of terror, Gotham’s elite, at least those that were still alive, came out of their hiding places, and were the first to recover. Slowly the city seemed to be piecing itself back together, visible from the work of the construction crews who seemingly never stopped, but the city was also different, in that intangible way that only a person’s heart could convey. Crime rates were up again, the city police over-run with all of Arkham’s criminals, but there was a new resilience within the people, as if having been through so many months of terror they had seen what they could withstand, and because of it new their own strength. 

Bruce Wayne, Lily had found out from a quick gossip with her local tabloid seller, was one of the quickest to recover from the attack. With the help of a Chineses computer genius, wall street had been restored, and all of Mr Wayne’s assets returned to him. It pays to have friends in high places, Lily thought, as she pushed open the glass door to Wayne Enterprises. With so many of the millionaires of Gotham dead or missing, there had been a significant number of stakeholders within the company left up for grabs, and at a fraction of the price of what Mr Wayne would have had to pay if they were still alive, he outright bought the company. It was a smart move, it either showed he was not as stupid as he seemed, or he had a very good financial advisor to thank for his new found wealth. 

Even though the elite were the elite again, there was a new found energy from all of them to been seen at any and every charitable event, in an attempt to be seen as a benefactor to the city, not it’s persecutor. Since Bane’s speech about the oppression of the people by the wealthy, they desperately needed the good public opinion. Especially because not everyone was pleased that the social hierarchy had been restored, and it would seem that one wrong move and the citizens of Gotham would spring on the rich with their new found strength. Lily could only presume that this was why Bruce Wayne was hosting an event to raise funds for the orphanage, to gain a good image in the media. 

Even though Wayne Enterprises had been donating to the institute for years, over the last few, their ‘gift of money’ to the orphanage had slowed to an almost non-existent dribble. Which was why Lily intended to squeeze every last dime out of the arrogant man as she could, having made up her mind to supervise the entire event. To make sure that every coin that was spent wasn’t wasted on something pointless, like a pretty ice-sculpting to impress the crowd before it’s usefulness dwindled to a puddle of water. 

“Excuse me” a sharp, high pitched female voice shrilled, “you need an appointment before you even try to use Bruce’s private elevator” she taunted, “it won’t open unless you have a confirmation email to scan at the panel”. Her voice rose and fell with a song like quality, and the woman played with her blow-waved strawberry blonde hair, her red manicured nails hovering above her key-pad, looking down contemptuously from her raised desk at Lily. 

Lily smiled cooly, her plain grey business dress, and white cotton jacket making a clear contrast between herself and the receptionist, before she widened the gap further by saying, “Yes, I was made aware of this earlier when I phoned a week ago to arrange a meeting with Mr Wayne. I don’t have a bar code, because I don’t have a touchscreen phone. But I do have his personal pin-code for the lift.” In a tone that told the other woman that Lily’s wouldn’t be intimidated. 

There was a strangled gasp of surprise, the woman clearly not having expected that Lily could really have an appointment with the millionaire. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to show me the rest of the way, I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with my settings and won’t be able to navigate his upstair offices.” Lily’s voice was calm and clipped, as if she resented having to ask, but saw the necessity of the situation. 

The receptionist’s eyes bulged, and hurriedly moving from her chair, quickly answered “Yes, of course I’ll show you to Bruce” out of breathe from excitement, her paperback novel of a playboy millionaire falling from her desk as she did; not that Lily could tell by the thump what had fallen. 

They moved arm in arm into the elevator, Lily feeling the feathers on the woman’s fluffy coat tickle her neck, and resisted the urge to sneeze on her. Reluctantly Lily told the woman, who babbled that her name was Georgia, the code numbers to the elevator, and Lily felt that sickening dropping in her stomach that meant they were moving up. Georgia kept talking about how unusual it was for anyone to receive a personal viewing with Bruce, and about how selective he was with who he spent his time. Lily felt Georgia press closer to her side, her floral perfume permeating the small space and making Lily feel like she was suffocating. Lily could practically hear the gears in the woman’s head whirr and click as she realised for the first time, that Lily might in fact, be some kind of wealthy client. 

For the most part, Lily remained silent, and even though the lift took less than a minute to reach the very highest level, she felt that it was a minute too long. As the elevator pinged their arrival, and the doors slid open, Lily stepped forwards, not waiting for Georgina to lead. Lily’s walking cane swept back and forth in front of her, as she practically pulled the gaping woman along with her. 

Georgina gasped, and whispered “I’ve never actually been up here before.” And Lily tried not to obviously frown, only moments ago Georgina has acted as if Lily was the dirt underneath her fingernails, now in less than all of five minutes, she acted as if they were close friends and confidants. 

Georgina’s mouth hung slack, as she took in Bruce Wayne’s office. It was more like a small apartment than a regular business set up. There were two great expensive looking couches, a thick glass coffee table, beverages and food already laid out; a sweeping comprehensive view through the spotless window, and what looked like a large computer and television screen built into the one non see-through wall. The only thing that seemed to be missing was the owner. 

As if he stepped out from the shadows, Bruce Wayne stepped forwards, saying “Miss Thorne”, and Georgina gasped, while Lily looked mildly surprised. She hadn’t noticed Mr Wayne standing there either, as he had made no sound, and if he used any cologne or scented soaps, it must have been overpowered by Georgina’s. 

Lily was about to say hello, but Georgina gushed, “Mr Wayne, it is such a pleasure to finally meet you.” As if Georgina was the one Mr Wayne had requested to see. Georgina’s ramble continued uninterrupted, “Lily and I were just saying that your office looks stunning, it shows such pois and taste. It speaks of a man with a great calibre, and such elegance.” Her voice was several pitches higher and breathier than before, and it made Lily grit her teeth. 

I hadn’t said anything about seeing his office, Lily thought, and wondered if Mr Wayne had picked up on the woman’s obvious bluff about a blind person looking around. She tried not to snort when Georgina mispronounced the word ‘calibre’, and wondered where Georgina thought her obvious flattery, that bordered on flirtation, was going to get her. 

Before Georgina could say anything else, Lily said “Thank you for escorting me up here Georgina, I appreciate your help, but I won’t keep you any longer from your work.” Lily had the feeling that Georgina was glaring at her for her obvious dismissal. But she could only bring herself to feel glad to be rid of the woman, as Georgina, oozing flattering and compliments sashayed back to the elevator. Lily actually smiled when she heard the doors close and the elevator drop away.  
“Mr Wayne” Lily began, suddenly all business, “I read over the emails you sent me for the venue suggestion, entertainment ideas and guest list.” She hadn’t exactly read, so much as run the emails through a computer program that read out the emails, but that was a pointless schematic. Lily took a breath, wondering how Mr Wayne would handle her next few propositions, “I think the venue you recommend would suit us perfectly, and I took the liberty of adding a few other names to the invitation list that I thought you could look over before approving. However I also anticipated that there might be some difficulty booking the performances, not anything that a significantly large sum of money couldn’t fix, but considering that the whole point behind this event is to donate as much funds to the orphanages of Gotham as possible, I thought that for a lesser sum of money we could hire Gotham’s orchestra. The live music would serve as a mood setting background noise, provide employment for locals, and act as entertainment for those who may wish to dance on the evening.” 

A hint of amusement in his voice, Mr Wayne said, “Well I’m glad to see you’re happy to see me too.” Lily almost sighed impatiently, Mr Wayne had set the date for the charity party for only a month from now, and although it was possible to organise everything within that time, his wasting time on trivial matters would only make the next few weeks more stressful. 

Lily was about to blandly respond with a social nicety and apologize for her lack of manners, when Mr Wayne surprised her by saying “Yes, I recieved your email this morning and approve your suggestion, although if you plan on inviting the City Mayor and his wife, you may also want to discretely invite his mistress, otherwise he might decline to come all together.” 

Lily’s face must have shown her shocked surprise, because Mr Wayne explained, “He arrives with his wife, and then they usually leave separately to their own penthouses. The Mayor’s mistress obviously goes with him.” 

“So much for family first”, Lily muttered under her breathe. 

“As for the orchestra, it’s a good idea, although it will change the atmosphere of the event to a formal one.” He said as he moved closer to Lily, and she felt herself draw in a breath. 

“Here” he said, and Lily obligingly took his sturdy arm, as he lead her over to the couch. Lily eager to move her hand away as soon as possible. Strangely enough, he made her feel nervous. 

“I was thinking,” Mr Wayne began, but Lily held up a hand, and said “One moment please.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small recording device, explaining “This is how I take my notes.” 

They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing back and forth the details for the fundraiser, and Lily found herself rather impressed. The man she was talking to now, sharply intelligent and confident, could almost be a different person that she had met a week ago. Through their conversation, he revealed that he had an insightful knowledge about the upper class’s social going on, such as the Mayor, and Lily was half surprised that he seemed so free in sharing the information with her. Even the way he talked was different, his accent less severe, his sentences more self assured and deliberate, not a hint of his previous erraticness. When they began to debating about how they would choose to spend the funds, Lily was pleased to find that they seemed to have a very similar mentality about how much to spend and what to put it to use on. She was also very thankful that she’d thought to bring the tape; he threw ideas at her, and asked for her opinion almost as fast as Georgina could talk. 

Hours later, Lily pushed away a tray of delicate finger food she’d been nibbling on, pulled a face and said, “As long as we don’t have whatever kind of meat that was at the party, I think the night should be a success.” 

Mr Wayne chuckled, a pleasant, low sort of thrumming. 

“I think if there is any other details we’ve missed, we should be fine to email them. I was thinking that it might be easier if you gave me your personal assistant’s email and number. I don’t see the point in bothering you with every detail that needs arranging.” Lily clarified, as she stood up, placing her recorder back in her pocket, and picking up her bag and cane. 

“I don’t have one.” Mr Wayne said, in a tone that seemed to convey that he’d never even thought of the idea before now. Lily frowned, surprised as well. 

“I have a personal receptionist and co-business partner, just not an assistant.” He amended in a thoughtful tone.

“Well” Lily faltered, “Who do you trust to make all the trivial decisions about your business then? Like, like the fundraiser.” She stammered.

Mr Wayne moved closer to her side, and Lily hesitatingly moved her hand to rest on his out stretched arm. It wasn’t entirely necessary for him to lead her back to the elevator, as usually she only needed to be shown something once, before being able to navigate herself out of a building, but she presumed he was only being polite. 

Still in that thoughtful tone, he said “No one. At least not yet.” 

“Oh”, was all Lily thought to say, and wished him a good evening. She moved to enter the elevator, but before the doors closed, his reflexes much faster, he stopped them from shutting with his arm. 

“Miss Thorne, I think perhaps it would be best if you attended the fundraiser, to make sure on the night everything goes exactly as we’ve planned.” Mr Wayne said almost too smoothly. “Oh, and call me Bruce.” 

Lily was about to object, but he pulled his arm away too quickly and said “Have a good evening Lily, I’ll see you next month.” The doors pinged close with a smug finality.


	4. The Green Dress.

Through a mouth of potato Lily laughed, trying not to splutter her food. John was sitting across from her, having finished his dinner ten minutes ago, he’d been regaling her with stories of one of the new cops on the force, and all the rooky tricks they’d pulled on the unsuspecting man. John made an exaggerated noise of disgust, and Lily could picture the way his heavy set eyebrows would draw together, as he said “For someone who’s blind, you sure do have good aim. I think those potato flecks went straight from your mouth to my face.” 

Lily swallowed, and hurriedly said, “I’m so sorry John, I’m such a ….” John’s laughing broke off her apology, and glaring she asked skeptically “So I didn’t really spit my potato on you?” 

“Well no, you didn’t, but you almost did.” John said, still laughing, adding “You’re just so gullible, you can’t blame me for taking the opportunity.” Lily stood up, and taking her dishes over to the sink, she heard John do the same with a satisfied groan of approval over the meal they’d just eaten. 

“Actually, I can blame you. And for the record, I’m blind, not gullible.” Lily retorted, “There is a difference.” A hint of amused strain in her voice, in the way that signalled that this was an argument they’d had often over the years. 

Leaning over the sink to run the hot water over the dishes, she could feel the brush of John’s elbow against her rib, as he said under his breath “If that’s makes you feel better, you just keep telling yourself that.” Apparently still pleased with his brother like teasing.

Lily changing the subject said, “How are you planning on doing my hair tonight?”

John’s elbow bobbed up and down beside her, he shrugged in an effort to seem nonchalant, “I was thinking I might leave your hair down. Maybe straighten the top and give you some loose curls near the bottom. I think the hairspray we used last time held the style really well.” It was the steady tone of his voice, one that betrayed his fore thought, that gave away his eagerness.

Lily smiled to herself as she ran the wet cloth over the dishes and handed the ones she’d finished over to John to dry, a routine that they’d established a long time ago. John, for all of his macho tendencies, his fondness for fast cars, his muscled build, his deftness with guns, and his obsession with extreme wrestling, was surprisingly good at hair and makeup; and anything John excelled in, he couldn’t help but derive pleasure from. But of course John would never be caught dead saying anything of the kind, apparently it wasn’t a selling point with the ladies to boast that you could do makeup better than them. Lily couldn’t understand why.

As they washed the dishes, the conversation shifted back and forth between their weeks at work. John paying particular interest to Lily’s stories of the children at the Orphanage, asking about the new cleaner and Thomas’s progress at school. They reminiscenced about some of their own fond memories together, from their childhood at the orphanage. Like the time John thought it was a good idea to hide fire cracker’s in the heating vent, and how one cold night, everyone had woken up to the sounds of about 50 fire cracker going off, and the time Lily had decided during a game of chasey that it would be a great idea to climb the roof, and then fell and broke her arm. 

Then their first time they’d met, involving yet another game of chasey, this time kiss chasey which involved kissing the person you wanted to ‘tag’. Laughing Lily said, “What kind of kid kisses a girl the moment he sees her?”

She could feel John waving the tea-towel around as it wafted air near her face, “Hey, anyone sitting in the sand box was fair-game as far as I was concerned. It’s not like I could know that you weren’t playing, let alone didn’t even know what kiss chasey was.” He laughed, “But yeah, pretty dumb move, even for me.” 

She smiled indulgently, “Yeah, it really was.” Lily reflected that in a funny way, it had probably been a good thing he had kissed her then. After she’d punched him in the nose, and then gave him her tissue for the bleeding, they’d been the best of friends. All through-out their teenage years, it had meant that there was never any underlying romantic tension. They’d both agreed the whole thing was just too gross to contemplate, and since they’d already kissed, and knew that it didn’t end well, they’d never had the desire to try that again. 

John snorted and said, “You know, you were the weirdest little kid, always so serious. You wore odd coloured socks, and used to talk to that toy Giraffe of yours. What was his name again? It started with a G, Gabe or something.”

Lily’s hands stilled for a moment, resting in the warm water, her voice slightly pained. “Yeah I remember. His name is Gilbert.” John apparently didn’t notice the stiffness of her shoulders, and he squeezed her arm warmly, leaving to go find the make-up kit and hair straightener in her room. 

As Lily let out the water, she sagged against the bench, biting her lower lip to stop it from trembling. I suppose I was an odd child, Lily thought. A ten year old who testified in court and still talked to their toy giraffe. 

Gilbert was a cheap oversized toy that her mother had won one night when they’d visited a local carnival. But it had meant more to her than anything her rich stepfather had ever given her, and it was the one thing she’d been able to keep when she’d been taken into protective custody. She swallowed, trying to push down the memory of that following night. 

Her mother,Beth, Lily recalled, had met her stepfather about four years after her dad had died from a heart attack. At first it had seemed like a fairy tale, a rich well-to-do businessman taking interest in a poor school teacher, barely able to pay the rent week by week; they should have know it was too good to be true. Her mother and her stepfather had dated for all of six months before getting married, and not long after that things began to go sour. 

The house they’d moved into had been enormous, modern and more luxurious than anything Lily had previously seen. Her stepfather, Aaron, always took great pains to tell her how expensive everything was, and how much trouble she’d be in if she ever broke anything, or touched something that didn’t belong to her.

For the first time she knew what it felt like to be surrounded by wealth and to have nothing. Before, even though they hadn’t had much, everything they did was shared between Lily and her mother. Of course, on birthdays, or at Christmas, Aaron would give her presents, things like diamond earrings, or high-heeled shoes that were far too big for an eight year old. Only for him to take them back and lock them away in a closet, where they’d be ‘safe’. 

The more time that went by, the more Lily and her mother had realized that her stepfather had been possessive, greedy and cruel. Beth found out only after she’d married him, that Aaron had gained most of his wealth from being a drug dealer; but he’d since advanced to that of a drug lord. When Beth tried to get a divorce, Aaron had yelled and raved that Beth couldn’t leave, that she belonged to him, that Lily belonged to him. Lily had been drawing in the lounge room, and had crept into the kitchen to see what they had been yelling about, her green eyes widening, as she had watched Aaron hit her mother. It was the first of many arguments that would end in violence. 

Now that she was older, Lily had often wondered why it was her mother never left Aaron. Perhaps she had loved him, felt trapped by the situation, and hoped that one day he would change, but he never did. He just got worse. 

The day after Beth had bought Lily the toy giraffe, there had been another argument. Her mother was angry that Aaron had been injecting drugs, while she was out shopping and Lily was playing in her room. She had argued that living with Aaron wasn’t safe for her and Lily anymore, and that she couldn’t trust Aaron, or any of his men whom he regularly invited around, alone with her daughter. The shouting had gotten louder and louder, until all of a sudden there had been a sudden smashing sound, and it was quite. 

Lily had stayed in her room, her tear stained face pressed down into her pillow, listening intently as Aaron’s footstep moved from the kitchen into the lounge, his movements heavy and unbalanced, still high from that afternoon. She’d waited, to hear or see her mother’s figure pass by, visible from the small gap in her door; but Beth never came. Throwing off her bed sheets, clutching the Giraffe in her arms, her little feet not making a sound as she crept along the corridor, she’d snuck down the hall and into the kitchen.

Lily couldn’t stop the images rising up in her mind’s eye. Her mother, lying at an impossibly odd angle, surrounded by a pool of blood. Lilly’s little hands shaking, frantically trying to wake her mother up. Lily remembered how her body had shuddered, as she tried to silence her cries, afraid that her stepfather would hear her. She hadn’t known what to do, she only knew that her mother wouldn’t wake up, and that Aaron had done this. 

When Lily eventually left her mother’s unmoving side, she’d entered the lounge room to find her stepfather passed out in the lounge, and she did what any 10 year old would do. She made sure that the bad man couldn’t hurt anyone else. She used pull-ties from the kitchen and fastened him to a large, heavy couch. She’d called the ambulance for her mother, and waited, teary eyed for the police. Standing vigil over her stepfather, even as, after he woke up, he yelled abuse at her, again and again threatening to kill her. 

She’d been hurried away to the police station and could still visualise the young looking police officer, by the name of Gordon, telling her that she had been very brave. He’d told her that she would be all right now. But she hadn’t felt very brave, and she hadn’t felt like everything was ever going to be fine again. For a very, very long time afterwards, it wasn’t. Even now, almost 20 years on she couldn’t say that everything was alright. 

“So…” John drawled out the word, bring Lily back to the present, thankful for the well timed interruption to her thoughts.

“Why exactly are there two dresses out on your bed?” He asked, his tone light. 

Lily’s voice cracked, “Well, I wasn’t sure which one to wear tonight.” She cleared her throat, trying to hide her emotions. 

With a screech of wood on tiles, John dragged over a kitchen chair, so that it was directly under the best light in the house, or at least that’s what he’d told her in the past. “You ok?” He asked quietly, having picked up on the sound of her voice and the look on her face. 

Lily supposed she wasn’t as good at hiding things as she thought she was, either that or John had known her too long that he could tell. She cleared her throat again and said, “Yeah, I was just thinking about my mom. But I’d rather not talk about that too much, so it’s fine.” 

“Right” John said, and Lily could picture his concerned face. 

“Well um,” he said, steering the conversation back to tonight, “I think the obvious decision would be the green one.” 

Lily frowned, not at all certain which one of the two dresses he meant, having no idea which one was green. Instead she explained, “I was planning on wearing the cotton one, but then the other one got sent to the house today, with a note, that I can’t read. So I’m not sure who sent it, or why.”

John sighed, and jogged back over to her room, presumably going to bring the note out. When he returned a few second later there was a funny catch to his voice, “You didn’t tell me that you knew Bruce Wayne.” He stated. 

Lily crossed her arms again her chest, feeling uncomfortable, “Well of course I do. He is the one hosting tonight’s fundraiser after all.” 

John demanded, again in that odd tone, “Why didn’t you tell me that?” 

Lily realised why she felt uneasy. John sounded like he was accusing her of something,”It must have slipped my mind, why is it so important?” She asked apprehensively. 

John snapped, “It’s nothing. It isn’t.” There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, as John seemed to be weighing up if he should say something else.

Lily, too impatient to wait any longer for him to make up his mind, asked “So who’s the dress from?” her tone reproaching.

“It’s from him. He suggests you wear it tonight.” John’s voice was tight, with what sounded like disapproval. 

Lily was utterly confused now, “What’s your problem? Do you not want me to wear the dress he sent, because I can just as easily wear the cotton one if that’s what’s making you upset.” 

John snapped back, an air of finality in his words, “I’m not upset. There’s nothing wrong, I’m just surprised, I didn’t know you knew him, and you can wear whatever dress you want.” 

Lily, exasperated, raised her arms, “Fine. I’ll wear the cotton one.” 

“No,” John was quick to say, reluctantly adding “Don’t. You must have missed it and I was going to mention it before, but there’s a stain on the skirt. You should wear the green one, it matches your eyes better anyway.” Now he sounded almost sheepish. 

“Well…. ok then.” Lily hesitatingly replied, unnerved by his strange behaviour. She moved past John, her fingers trailing the wall to her bedroom, and got changed, unable to figure out why John had been so accusing or defensive. 

Lily closed the door, and hung the cotton dress back up on it’s hanger, moving her hands along the bed until she found the gown Bruce had sent her. The dress felt exquisite, smooth, chiffon material, that would fall just below her ankles, and a pleated love heart neckline. She could feel from the weight that the small beads circling just under the bust, were made of glass, and they made a crisscrossing intricate design at the back. Lily sucked in a breath, and let it out through her teeth, she’d never worn any piece of clothing that was so elegant, or so expensive. 

Unbidden, yet again that evening, memories of her stepfather’s lavish house, and his extravagant gifts came to mind, and she found herself drawing her hands away from the beautiful dress. 

She bit down on her lower lip, considering her options. She knew that John had lied about there being a stain on the dress to spare her feelings. The real reason was that the cotton dress was so far inferior to the gown Bruce had sent over, it was almost laughable. Lily had owned the dress for three years now, and had bought it during an end of summer special. It was lightweight and unsuited for an autumn night, pilled around the armpits and edges, only ever meant for a casual party, not a fancy, celebrity filled, cocktail event. It was all she could afford on a meagre salary from a non-for-profit orphanage, and besides that, she rarely had any occasion to wear formal dresses. 

Lily bit the inside of her cheeks, and began to pull the chiffon gown up and over her head, it was silly not to wear the dress. She’d draw more attention to herself if she wore the cotton one, surely she could manage to put her middle-class working pride aside for just one rotten evening. The dress was more difficult to put on than she had expected, and after several misguided attempts at putting her arms and head through the back piece, she managed to wiggle the dress past her shoulders, and smooth out the flowing skirt. 

She pulled on a pair of comfortable flats, and carried her small-heeled shoes out in her hands, shuffling into the kitchen in an attempt to avoid stepping on the dress. “What do you think?” Lily asked, sweeping her arms out beside her sides, slowly turning around to show John how well the dress fitted. There was a long pause before John answered, leaving Lily to wonder if she looked as over-dressed as she felt. 

John coughed, and cleared his throat, “Yep. It uh, it looks fine.” 

Lily tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and sighed. She supposed she shouldn’t have expected anything else. Even if John was terrific at makeup, he was still your stereotypical bloke. Moving over to sit on the kitchen chair in front of John, she patiently tucked her hands in her lap, as John again cleared his throat, the foundation brush hovering what felt like inches above her face for a moment, and then he began to apply her makeup. 

Lily was slightly surprised, when nearing the end, after John had finished apply a light coat of eyeshadow and mascara, he commented, “Your eyes really are beautiful.” Adding, almost as an after thought, “Because of the dress I mean.”

Lily just nodded, unsure what else to say, she asked, “Are you finished yet?” 

Just as John withdrew and was about to answer yes, there was the telltale beep of a car’s horn, as if the driver was leaning heavily on the steering wheel. Lily stood up, and explained “That’s probably the taxi. I rang earlier and asked him to come by at about 7.” She began groping along the kitchen bench, sweeping her hand along past the kettle and fruit bowl. 

John, pressing her satchel and folded walking cane into her hand asked, “Looking for these?”

Lily smiled, “Thanks John.” Taking his arm as he escorted her out her front door, and down to the ground floor, something she was perfectly capable of managing herself, but was thankful for the companionship all the same. After John reassured her he’d lock up after himself, Lily got in the cab and stuck her tongue out, before yelling, “Talk to you later loser!”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments!!!!


End file.
